


Snow

by bela013



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Baby Ramsay, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bela013/pseuds/bela013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mother is only as worthy as her son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sternflammenden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternflammenden/gifts).



Through the window, the frozen glass and the falling snow, there is a sea of white. It's always white in the North, unless when there is blood to be spilled.  
Memory is a treacherous thing, it can keep something locked away for years, and it can bring them back with a blink of an eye. Just by looking at those chubby cheeks and those pale blue eyes, I was taken back to the day my maiden head stained the white snow with red.  
"Such a little thing," he weighted next to nothing in my arms, even with that plump body, and his head firmly placed under my chin, it still felt like I was holding onto thin air. "wonder how much would you have in you to stain the snow, if I were to throw you out of the window"  
A happy gurgle was my only answer, but it did nothing to warm my heart to him. It's been months since his birth, since I pushed that thing out of me, and the pain was worse than the one his _father_  inflicted on me. The were both monsters, them and the whole lot of that pale eyed freaks that lived in that keep. Dreadfort was its name, and so fitting it was for the cold stone walls and for the cold handed lord that owned it.  
I place him back to his basked, covering him with fur even if she could care less if he froze or not. Let those tiny hands be as cold as the ones who pinned me down onto the cold floor. The mill moved with the wind, remembering me of my fear of losing it too. Wish I could change things, my husband back and with him, food on the pantry and a sure roof over my head, in exchange, the smiling babe that kept staring at me, demanding my attention. Yes, to change the babe for the mill, but there was only one man who could give me this mill, and that man sat on a keep over the snowed hill.  
"Come... Ramsay," she tested the name is her mouth, and with it, she rose to her feet in that chill empty kitchen "Let's see if you are worth half the strength I made to push you out"  
With his basked in hand, she march out into the snow, straight to that dreadful keep and its chill lord, to get her what she once had, food for her pantry and her mill.


End file.
